Brink (Single) by Paul Revere

2009 (1 tracks, 7:57)

dance/electronica

Above we take you “Back in the day” once again. That’s me, TJ Hooker stuntin’ in my Benz Coupe (NO PAYMENTS!) about 9 years ago…

I think it’s important to show our history (CAPITAL members), because it is vital to the genuine “flyness” of our brand and what we represent. You can love it or hate it – but the truth is: This is really how we live and have lived since day 1.

In this throwback joint “Ohh! (Paul Revere)” you’ll hear me shout out quite a few friends in one line. My business partner J Thrill/Trill being one of ‘em. If you don’t have loyalty, honor and a code to live by…you got nothin. (What up also to L.C., L Wan, D.C., J Had, Ime, A. Walk and E.A. – all real dudes who have remained supportive and grinding!)

Like I always say: “We beeen doin’ this”. Enjoy.
(Recorded AT LEAST 5yrs ago…yall STILL playin catch-up!)

The modern day Paul Revere will be heard shouting,

“The Looters are coming!  The Looters are coming!”

Paul Revere's Ride

The climate kooks in Copenhagen are proving that life can imitate art as they adeptly play out the role of the “looters” from Ayn Rand’s classic, Atlas Shrugged. 

A chilling reality to those of us who are paying attention.  (Watch for John Stossel’s special on Atlas Shrugged, a Fox Business Network special report.) 

DrudgeReport alerts us to Andrew Bolt’s commentary on the response by the climate-kooks to the address given by Hugo Chavez: 

 
Climate summit erupts in ‘deafening applause’ for Hugo Chavez… 

Holiday parties, last minute errands, speeding up at work to cram all in before year’s end:  these are the hallmarks of the week before Christmas.  I don’t know about you, but I find it much easier to keep Christmas slow on December 1 than on December 15.  This week is when it all comes down to the wire.  We shift into warp speed with the crazed determination to get it all done, so we can relax next week.

Cats: when you need a nudge to live in the moment

But I’ll let you in on a secret:  the more we wind ourselves up, the longer it takes to wind down.  It’s what we Americans do:  we push ourselves to work longer, save up more, then spend it all on a blowout vacation to somewhere we can sit around for a whole week and do absolutely nothing.  The trouble is, when we get there, relaxing feels foreign to us.  And just when we start to get used to slowing down, it’s time to go back to work. When we get back, the memory of our vacation makes it harder to submit once again to the breakneck pace of daily life. Christmas is no different for most of us.

So what about if this year, rather than speeding-up-so-we-can-slow-down, we head off this madness right now? Here are 3 steps to help:

1. When you notice your mind racing and making lists, stop. Take ten slow breaths in a row, counting all the way to five as you inhale, taking another 5 to exhale. This is almost a cliché at this point, but believe me when I tell you, there’s a reason it’s become one.  Deep breaths actually send signals to your brain that trigger an “everything is okay now” response in your body.  This gives you an opportunity to slow down and take stock.

2. Ask yourself, is this a situation where my need for speed is legitimate, i.e. am I being pursued by bears? As the original fast American would be the first to tell you, there are some things worth breaking a sweat for:

Paul Revere galloping, 1775

But, if you find that you’re rushing to make an appearance at two holiday parties in the same night, or to pick up pink furry slippers for your sister-in-law at the mall, you may want to do a spot-check on your priorities. Your friends and loved ones will understand if you can’t make it to every party. And your sister-in-law may turn out to hate the color pink, but really want your recipe for snickerdoodles instead.

3.Take a look at your to-do list.  Cross 2 things off. Go on, do it.  Then, see if anyone notices that you didn’t do them this year. It’s a hard lesson to swallow for those of us who pay attention to detail, or have a perfectionist streak. But if you’re serious about slowing down your Christmas, you have to prioritize.  Frankly, some errands are just more important than others.  (Having planned a wedding not too long ago, there are a million details that couples can exhaust themselves getting right.  But when we decided not to send save-the-date postcards, or make a seating chart, no one even noticed.)

Try not to skip any steps, or it won’t work.  Let me know how it goes, and I’ll let you know how I do.  Now that you’ve done the hardest part, go forth and create Christmas memories!

I love how I can tell their reading comprehension is improving by how they react when we read aloud. The best is the giggling. Next would be the “ewww”ing. I got a big dose of both today when we were shared-reading And Then What Happened, Paul Revere? by Jean Fritz. The narrator was describing Boston, specifically all the oddities one could find at Boston Common, and one of them was a pickled Pirate’s head. No reaction. I thought about saying something, but didn’t. Then someone asked about something else in the long list (I love Jean Fritz’s style – so funny while being true!) so I went back to the pickled Pirate’s head.

Me: What about the “pickled Pirate’s head”?
Kids: (silence)
Me: What do you think it is? A “pickled. Pirate’s. head.”
Kid: … (light bulb flickering) Is it a real head??
Me: I don’t know. What do you think?
Kids: (twittering) (As in talking, not texting)
Me: What does it mean when something’s “pickled”?
Kids: (silence)
Me: How do they make pickles?
Kids: (silence)
Me: (laughing) Come on, I HATE pickles, but even I know how they’re made! (laughing) Did you know pickles used to be cucumbers?
Kids: YES.
Me: Okay then. So they put the cucumbers in a PICKLING juice, like vinegar or something, and they turn into pickles. Has anyone ever seen pickled eggs?
Indigo: Yes! They’re red!
Me: I think they are pickled with beet juice or something … ? (This could all be lies, I have no idea..)
Kids: ugh.
Me: You can pickle lots of stuff. So what would a PICKLED, PIRATE’S, HEAD be …?

The look of utter shock and mortified horror on their faces was ABSOLUTELY PRICELESS. I had to turn away and cover my mouth because I was LAUGHING so hard. The way they all shuddered and their mouths dropped at the same time was just so completely comical. Forget a light bulb clicking on – I thought they were all going to puke. Now that’s some reading comprehension! I will never forget the looks on their faces for as long as I live.

When President Obama spoke to troops at Alaska’s Elmendorf Air Force Base last month, the unit there parked a shiny new F-22 fighter plane in the hanger. But according to multiple sources, White House aides demanded the plane be changed to an older F-15 fighter because they didn’t want Obama speaking in front of the F-22, a controversial program he fought hard to end.

“White House aides actually made them remove the F-22-said they would not allow POTUS to be pictured with the F-22 in any way, shape, or form,” one source close to the unit relayed.
Stephen Lee, a public affairs officer at Elmendorf, confirmed to The Cable that the F-22 was parked in the hanger and then was replaced by an F-15 at the White House’s behest.

The airmen there took offense to the Obama aides’ demand, sources told The Cable, seeing it as a slight to the folks who are operating the F-22 proudly every day. They also expressed bewilderment that the White House staff would even care so much as to make an issue out of the fact that the F-22 was placed in the hanger with the president.

A White House official, commenting on background basis, told The Cable that yes, there were discussions about which plane or planes would be in the hanger, but that they were not meant as an insult to the pilots and other personnel who work on the F-22. The official couldn’t elaborate on why the White House aides felt it necessary to get involved in the matter in the first place.

The official pointed to Obama’s speech to the troops that day, where he praised both the 90th Fighter Squadron, known as the “Dicemen,” and the 525th Fighter Squadron, the “Bulldogs,” both of which operate the F-22.

Even so, the Air Force personnel thought it odd the White House wanted to display the older plane rather than the more advanced plane that, in the eyes of its supporters, represents the latest and greatest in American aviation.

The Obama administration fought hard and successfully to cut off production of the F-22 at 187 planes, a number Defense Secretary Robert Gates endorsed but that was hundreds less than originally planned and about half of the 381 planes Air Force leadership lobbied hard for in the years preceding Obama’s inauguration.

“It’s one thing to be against further production; quite another to slight the folks who are flying them in the operational world,” one source said, adding that “the F-15 pictured was put into service roughly around the same period when Obama graduated from college. It’s vintage.”

Obama would have been more comfortable with a Sukhoi Su-35 or the Jian-10 behind him. What nonsense. How did we end up with this poseur to be President?

This character is unfit to be CIC, unfit to be any type of elected official. He is a f%@k&%g disgrace and a joke.  Thanks to RJ over at Paul Revere’s Riders.

This is crunch time folks, all hands on deck needed to defeat the unconstitutional abomination Pelosi Bill in the House H.R. 3962

Join your fellow patriots around the country in a nation wide Nov. 5 D-Day Push to the Defeat Pelosi Health House Care Bill

Melt the phone lines, fax, email, send letter, show up at their on their doors. Fax or Take along a PINK SLIP if you visit your Rep’s Local Office and he/she supports the Bill.

DO WHAT YOU CAN BUT DO SOMETHING!

10 minutes to phone/fax to the time it takes to hop in your car and pay your Rep a visit TO HELP SAVE YOUR COUNTRY.

This BILL is a nail in the coffin of our Republic and every citizen will lose more of their liberties and pay for the “privilege” with INCREASED TAXES

BOTTON LINE: It MUST be stopped

DO WHAT YOU CAN BUT DO SOMETHING!

The phone lines, fax, email, and address of all Michigan Reps can be found HERE

Here is a phone script or Fax page to use. Add or subtract as so desired.

My name is____ I am calling from Michigan, my zip code is_____I am calling to tell Rep or Senator ______ that the Pelosi Health Care Plan needs to be killed.
It is massive government control paid for on the back of the taxpayers and future taxpayers, our children. We need to start fresh with a 10-20 page Bill that includes tort reform, medical savings account, tax breaks, buying insurance across state lines.

We want choice NOT control.

If the Congressman/woman votes for this Bill in any form, I will do whatever I can to see they do not return to Congress.
The very future of our country is at stake!

Thank you

When Ruth Kiralfy advised me that she was organizing a group to take an autumn cruise from New York City up the New England- Canadian  coast,  I decided that could be an interesting and fun adventure.  Of the four ports of call, New York was the only one I had ever visited before. 

Our cruise ship Carnival Triumph sailing past the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor. This picture was taken by Leslie Search, a fellow member of CALL, the Columbus Academy of Lifelong Learning, who was with another Columbus group touring the New England and Canadian coast. She took it from the Caribbean Princess.

Not knowing that Leslie and other Columbus folks like Jimmy Motos, retired school principal, Springer Opera House regular, Bob Barr band clarinetist, were on board, I took this shot of the Caribbean Princess as we were leaving New York Harbor

I thought it would be neat to get my first glimpse of Boston by sailing into its historical harbor, the scene of the Tea Party and the British naval bombardment of Boston during the Revolutionary War.  And it was.

When we entered Boston Harbor two other cruise ships were already there.

We took a bus tour of the city, which I thought was quite attractive,  and made two special stops, one at the Old North Church and the other at Harvard University.

Sitting where Paul Revere sat in Boston's Old North Church in 1775.

The house at Harvard University that served as George Washington's Headquarters in the Revolutionary War

Then, to walk on the Harvard campus and gaze upon the house that George Washington used for his headquarters, also tickled my history funny bone.

The weather was fine for the tour, a nice sunny day  in the upper fifties.  But, when we got back on the Carnival Triumph for the next leg of the cruise to Portland, Maine, we were once again reminded that our cabin contained no heat.  The low that night was in the thirties.  Jimmy Motos later told me that his ship, the Caribbean Princess, did have heat for its cabins. Wish I had known that before I signed up for the cruise. 

A look at the Portland one-day experience coming up.

Another pro bono job today. This one for a young couple—married, it seems, but I’m not really sure—who needed a frozen turkey delivered to a house only three miles away from theirs. That was strange, I thought, seeing as how they appeared perfectly able-bodied and were quite pleasant.

“This turkey, it needs to stay frozen?” I asked over the phone.

“That would be best,” the woman answered.

They explained that they didn’t have any money to give me, that they in fact spent the bulk of their spare money on the turkey itself, which I would have thought might be discounted this time of year, but I didn’t press the issue.

The real kicker—and the reason I decided to take the job, no more questions asked—was that they wanted me to deliver the still-frozen turkey to a boy at the house named Mack, and to deliver it with an Australian accent.

“Ayyyy, so thayt’s why you’ve called me in, ayy mates?” I said into the phone, in perfect South Sydney.

“It’s true!” she screamed out to her husband, “I didn’t believe it when Sharon told me. But he does do a perfect South Sydney!”

As a freelance bicyclist, you don’t go through your days thinking that the spot-on South Sydney accent—which you developed after watching an Australian cable channel as a boy and which made you remotely famous in your high school years—you just don’t think that it’s going to serve you any business purpose whatsoever, until one day, there you are, being instructed to deliver a frozen turkey in America in late May with a South Sydney accent.

“A turkey in May, huh?” I asked.

“It’s a long—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to explain.” I was so intrigued by the request that I didn’t really care about the reason anymore.

“We used to live in, well, South Sydney,” she said, hesitating. “And when we were there we would celebrate Thanksgiving in May, because, you know, the whole southern hemisphere thing. It’s autumn there.”

“The thing about the toilet water?” I said.

“Totally true.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. So, anyway, we were there, and, um…” Her voice breaks and I realize that she’s suddenly crying.

“My goodness,” I said, “I’m sorry, you don’t have to explain.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s okay. So: Mack, who you’re delivering the frozen turkey to, is our son. But we hit some rough patches, we lost a lot of money, and we had to let him go. Go to a family that loves him so much, really, and takes great care of him. Breaks our fucking hearts, though, every day.”

“I see.”

“And my husband, when we were in Sydney, used to sneak out of the house and dress up as a British Revolutionary soldier and come to the door with a frozen turkey for Thanksgiving. We’re a tad bit historically liberal with the details, but what the fuck, who isn’t.”

“So…” I said, totally perplexed by the sudden awkwardness of having to get details at a time like this. “So, I should also dress up as a Revolutionary British soldier?”

“If it’s not a problem.”

As though anything could possibly be a problem at that point.

“Of course not,” I said. “Do you know, sorry to ask, of a good Revolutionary War costume shop?”

“There’s one on Twelfth and Stanton that has reliable Revolutionary gear.”

“Okay, great,” I replied.

“And then if you can hold the turkey behind your back when he comes to the door and say, ‘Did someone order a bird?! Was it… you?!’ And then pull the turkey out from behind your back at that point.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah but can you do it for me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Can you do it. With the accent. I just want to hear it.”

“Oy! Did somebodee ordeh… a bird?! Woaz it yooooou?!” I said.

The woman cried and laughed and told her husband that my South Sydney might be better than his.

“But my Revolutionary British walk is a piece of shit, trust me,” I said, “and that’s just something you’re going to have to deal with.”

“Dealt with. Done,” she said.

To: dawes13@aol.com

From: paulrevere@yahoo.com

Subject: (No Subject)

William,

Stop bugging me.  Do you have any idea what time it is?

• A Complete History of Nickelback Wikipedia Page Vandalisms. Because apparently their being on Wikipedia in the first place wasn’t vandalism enough.
• Unfortunately Named Professionals. Laugh like you’re in 5th grade again.
• Watch: The Complete Guide to the Future. “The rapture is coming! The year 2000 is drawing near!” – Paul Revere
• Barbie is putting on some weight. But how are little girls going to know they need to be unrealistically skinny, now?
• Obama only ranked 15th in a list of the World’s hottest leaders. He can’t win all of the awards, I guess.
• If Men’s Magazines Were Honest…men’s magazines would go out of business.
• Babies love Beyonce. They feel like they can just “really relate” to her emotional lyrics.

When considering lighting for your early American restoration project, you’ve no doubt thought of a Paul Revere lantern perhaps?   I think most of us who know the story of Paul Revere’s ride, picture Paul Revere riding through the woods holding that lantern up with a candle that miraculously stayed lit during that bumpy ride!  That’s a good place to start; however, there are many more styles of colonial lanterns (wall, hanging and post lanterns) from which to choose.  The Colonial Williamsburg style of lantern is sometimes called a cross-bar lantern (or “H” – bar lantern).  Truth be told, you can have “X” bars instad of cross (“H”) bars and still be perfectly inkeeping with the early American style.  There are many from which to choose  at our store: www.deWolfFineLighting.com.   Our designs are exact Colonial reproductions, and they’re all handmade by American craftsmen in the USA too!

Here are Paul Revere’s REAL lanterns: 

Here’s our Paul Revere Lantern: 

Also, click here>>> to see examples of Colonial Williamsburg “H”-bar lanterns and “X”-bar lanterns!

I’m working on editing a book of poetry for a friend. It’s been absolutely delightful. Much more aesthetic than prose, words play on the page, creating a vivid picture in sound.

A few weeks ago, I went to Powells with my friend, Clawson. For those of you not in the know, Powells is the city of books within the city of Portland.  Walking into the store is like walking into a different country. Tall bookcases are jammed with titles, each of them clamoring for attention; hardback, paperback, softcover, and even some with plastic covers. The store smells of paper – of gently turned over page corners, long afternoons in the sunshine, hot cocoa being sipped on the couch, study sessions in the library, dead trees alive once again with adventures and stories. The Powell’s crowd is a motley crew. On any given day you can find so many Portland cliches: hippies, berkenstock-wearing executives, handsome men with square rimmed glasses (ala Sam Adams), men and women with carefully coifed dreadlocks, and men in black utili-kilts. (side note: if you are a male who is thinking about wearing a kilt, pair it with combat boots or Chucks. Please take note, NEVER wear one with Birkenstocks or Crocs. People will laugh.)

There’s one section in Powell’s in which I haven’t spent much time. That’s where I found my friend, staring at a silent shelf full of thin volumes. It was the poetry section. No wonder poets are poor. For all fanfare they recieve, no one buys their books.

Clawson was trying to decide on which poetry book would be best for her trainride to the Midwest. She would have quite a bit of time on her hands and wanted something to stimulate her mind with. Between the two volumes, she chose the cheaper one. Not always the best way to decide but it works.

Seeing the empty aisle made me stop and think. Who haunts the deserted aisle? What kind of person really lingers over words? In the day and age of instant information, who really wants to have to read and re-read to get the gist of what the author is trying to say? Or at least, what they think the author is trying to say. I looked at the books and felt sad. In today’s economy, most of the books wouldn’t have the chance at being published. There would be hundred’s of poets without the thrill of having their work bound up and in ink.

In college, I tried my hand at poetry. Okay, that’s not quite true. I wrote a sonnet and half a dozen haikus. That’s not true either. One sonnet and closer to one hundred haikus. There’s something about haikus that just click in my brain. I wrote them when I should have been paying attention in class. I wrote them on a napkin while I was eating lunch. I scribbled them down right before I went to bed. As far as poetry goes, haikus offered me instant gratifaction. The inspiration could come and be on paper just as quickly. Too bad there’s no demand for them in the real world.

I did read quite a bit of Wadsworth when I was a child.  We had a thick green volume that I used to sneak when I should have been doing math. Big shocker. It was an old book, it had color plates and a nice, thick binding. I never made it through the complete Song of Hiawatha, but managed to get through Paul Revere’s Ride, The Skeleton in Armor, and The Wreck of the Hesperus. I also had a steady diet of Alfred Noyes’ works, Song of Sherwood and The Highwayman. Are there poems like that nowadays? Do people even read them?

Read a few of the above and tell me that you can’t get into them. Read them aloud and let the words glide off your tongue.  Let your spoken words take you to places far off and imagined. Let your imagination make you smile, express emotions outside of your current feelings or situation. Then tell me that poetry is useless and should die. Then tell me that poetry is wasted paper. Until then, read and enjoy.

Whenever I was studying American History in school, it always felt like the unit about the American Revolution was the longest. That’s probably because it was the beginning of the school year, and the teachers were somewhat luxuriant with (or ignorant of) time and spent three days on the Stamp Act alone. (This, of course, would lead to a wallop in May of learning about World War I on a Monday and World War II on a Tuesday.)

I didn’t learn I was actually considered a Daughter of the American Revolution until well after high school (when some of those scholarships would have come in handy). Of course, DAR has a somewhat sullied history of being racist and segregationist, which is unfortunate (though presumably remedied), but the idea of drawing a sense of pride from having a direct familial tie to the birth of your country is pretty cool. I’m also in the illustrious company of fellow DAR such as Laura Bush, Janet Reno, Bo Derek and Rory Gilmore.

When I was in Virginia this past summer, Andrew (who is, of course, a son of the American Revolution) and I reconnected with the relative to whom we trace our status by driving to Rocky Mount, Virginia, to try to find the Robert Hill fort.

Robert Hill emigrated from Ireland to the United States in 1740. (My mom suspects he could have been an English landowner in Ireland, but it is not known for certain.) He and his wife, Violet, originally lived in Pennsylvania but later moved South to become the first permanent settlers of Franklin County, Va., with 1,700 acres to their name. One account in the family history, excerpted from “Pioneer Families of Franklin County, Virginia” by Marshall Wingfield, notes that Violet—maiden name Linus—“was a member of an old Roman family that went from Italy to the British Isles shortly after the Roman conquest. An effort has been made to identify her family with that of an early Bishop of the Christian Church, but… there are no authentic records to establish that connection.”

The Hill settlement was built in 1743 in what would become Rocky Mount. The stone house was designed as a fort to protect the Hill clan from Indian attacks, but to that end, it wasn’t so successful. Two of Robert Hill’s five sons were killed by Indians—one by an arrow and one by a tomahawk. A third was killed by a panther or a bucking horse.

The house stayed in the family until 1917, but most of it was destroyed by a fire in 1960. The owner at the time, former Franklin County Circuit Court Judge B.A. “Monk” Davis III, allegedly stuffed four of the house’s five chimneys with dynamite and exploded them. The rest was bulldozed, save for the original chimney. Today, that is all that remains, standing just off the property of the Christian Heritage Academy.

That’s where we found ourselves on a mild July Wednesday. After calling the town historical society to get some directions — one thing I learned on this trip is not to task Andrew with making calls for directions, since details like writing down said received directions tended to escape him — we eventually found the school and, off to the side, the remains of the fort.

There’s not a whole lot left — a fireplace and half a wall, really — but it was a powerful experience to know that this very ground is where some of my first relatives to step foot on American soil had sat here, warmed themselves, took shelter from the wilderness around them.

The site was designated a Franklin County Historic Site in 2005, and the locals had erected an information kiosk that included a brief audio overview of the history of the fort. It was weird to look at the list of donors to the Robert Hill Fort Preservation Project and, first of all, see some Hills and wonder how closely we were related and, two, not help but feel some sense of gratitude to these total strangers who had chipped in to help preserve some of my family heritage. They don’t know me, and I’ll never know them, but we’re connected in some weird way nonetheless.

So, how does the Revolutionary War play into all of this? While Robert Hill died one year into the War, his family took an active role throughout. Violet helped supply food to American soldiers and their animals, and both living sons—Thomas and Swinfield—fought in the war. It is through Swinfield, who went on to become a prominent local judge, that Andrew and I receive our designation.

After Andrew and I were done seeing the fort, we set out to find the Tanyard Road cemetery, where we knew at least some of the Hill clan were buried. Without real directions, our effort consisted mainly of plugging Tanyard Road into the GPS and hoping we spotted something on the side of the road. Sure enough, next to the National Guard headquarters, there was the cemetery. We found markers for Robert, Violet and Thomas — for Robert and Violet, their original markers were complemented by more recent ones that noted their involvement in the Revolutionary War and were accompanied by American flags; Thomas had just the newer marker and flag. It was an amazing feeling to be able to visit the gravesites of some of my earliest American ancestors and pay our respects.

. . .

When I was walking to work the other morning, I was reminded of all of this when I passed a sign, painted state park brown, that read “Revere’s Ride.” I happen to retrace a fair portion of Paul Revere’s midnight ride on my normal walk to work. As you may remember, Paul’s ride went right past my neighborhood, but it continues on past the street where I work in Medford. When I walked past the sign, I thought back not only to our visit to the Robert Hill Fort, but all of my various tangential connections to the American Revolution. Living in Massachusetts, sure, you can’t help but be surrounded by them, whether it’s walking the Freedom Trail or visiting the location of the shot heard ’round the world. (In fact, I’ve seen the reenactment of Revere’s ride twice, and William Dawes’ oft-forgotten ride once — two of those three times entirely by accident.) And to be fair, being a direct descendant of someone who fought in the Revolutionary War is not a particularly rare designation.

But to have visited the Virginia homestead and gravesites who helped fan the flames of revolution in their own small way, and then to come back home and realize I am — and always have been — surrounded by a story to which I have a newly realized personal connection, is pretty humbling and amazing. Sure, Violet Hill is no Paul Revere, but the overall narrative is shared. And I am a descendant and inheritor of that narrative. I touched the stone ruins of the Robert Hill Fort and walked on the Battle Green in Lexington, and in some way, those two sites are connected.

If only I’d known that sitting in American History class, learning about the Stamp Act for the fifth time and wondering what was the point.

There are more than 100 restaurants, many shops, and a little more than 20,000 people within the square-mile that comprises the wonderful North End neighborhood of Boston. It is one of Boston’s oldest neighborhoods. It is the site of many historic events that contributed the founding of the United States and others, including the beginning of Paul Revere’s midnight ride, the birth place of Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy and her son, who would become President, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, and the molasses flood, which killed more than 20 people.

I decided to start this blog because I love my neighborhood. I appreciate its historical value, culture, events, and the people who have lived here and live here now. And, I find that the North End is an endless source of discovery. Almost every day, I find something new, whether it is a little nook, historical fact, store, person, or walkway. I do not profess to be an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I would like North End Interloper to serve as a forum for information, stories, and respect for the North End. Also, I hope that it can help people realize that one can find beauty and a source of fascination wherever you live – you just have to open your eyes and use your imagination.

I visited Boston this weekend.  It was my second time in Boston.  The first one was when I went to Fenway (sorry no pictures), but this time I was able to really look around Boston. 

Walking out of the “T” (Boston’s subway and the first subway in the world) I was treated to a rally to legalize marijuana.  As Stacia put it, quoting a movie she’s never seen and hates, “I’m not in Kansas” anymore.  I could never imagine Texas allowing anything of this nature.  Although anytime you stop to listen to the music someone would want to talk to you about their cause; I didn’t care enough to talk to anyone so I left.  Surprisingly a lot of cops around. 

The freedom trail is a path around Boston that show’s you historic sites.  It is very interesting how Boston has a rich history.  Reminded me a bit of Europe in that regards, granted US history doesn’t go back nearly as far.   

Some other interesting pictures (below).  The first one is where the constitution was hashed out.  The picture on the right is the church Paul Revere lit two candles to warn the British were coming. 

The picture below is the USS Constitution.  I’m pretty sure I cut in front of everyone to take this picture.  I can’t read signs very well.   

The rest of the pictures are just Boston Skyline pictures. 

By Bridgette

Did anyone wonder why so many people were making such a big deal out of the Obama Joker poster? Isn’t it just Obama in white face? Isn’t it supposed to show his duplicitousness in both words, actions, and lineage? I think so.

Besides if you think about it, how can they call us racist if we say something we don’t like about him or his policies? As whites, we speak to the white side, and if black, we speak to his black side. So I guess now they want us to pick sides and qualify it up front. For example, “Okay, let me say this to Obama Whiteside, “Label or threaten us, and here’s right back at ya!” We already know he has a left side, and we definitely know he is not in possession of a “right” side.

So fellow mobsters and vigilantes, speak up knowing you are in the right. The opposition is trying to turn our country upside down, and wants us to join them in their “moment!” This is a strategized movement many years in the making, where our beliefs, thoughts, and actions are being monitored and fueled by the Joker in the WH. He, by his own words, is pitting American against American!

Hold on to your flag, raise up your pitchfork, and be vigilant for the aggressor’s plan is a full fledged assault on our liberties and freedom. Communism encourages divisions among people hoping to break down and dissolve democracy. Those that choose lawlessness and promote another ideology that threatens our country are disloyal and tyrannous. Those that put another ideology above the US Constitution and our laws are traitors and should be branded as such. They are charlatans and, indeed jokers, who are working without a full deck.

The viciousness and hate spewing at us is just a tiny example of what we will experience if the wrong side becomes the right side. They expect us to capitulate by using fear as their weapon. After feeding our impressionable children their slanted views, they thought they were in charge of an indoctrinated citizenship. They thought more of us would join their cause. It is having the opposite effect. If we don’t join voluntarily, they’ll use their next option from the Alinsky playbook, force.

Force is being met by resistance. Resistance is challenging a group of people that believe they know what is best for us, and who look upon us as uneducated peasants from yesteryear. The fictious force is meeting up with the Resistance movement; a grassroots movement that isn’t going to allow them to win. The defensive posture of the people is being displayed throughout our nation. The evil force in and from our government is the catalyst that has awakened citizens from their political inertia. Their “Chicago way” is coming face to face with the American Way.

This my friends, is no joke. The Joker occupying our WH and his obsequious followers or sycophants are in for the fight of their lives. Did the poster cross the line, no! The Joker and his minions, henchmen, and thugs have crossed the line! We won’t give up our country for a man whose background is a secret, and whose puppet strings can and will be cut by the vociferousness and pressures exerted by the true patriots of this great nation. They are just starting to see that phony images, lofty “say nothing” speeches, and cliched mantras don’t amount to a hill of beans. When it comes to protecting our country from enemies foreign and domestic…we are up to the challenge. We know corruption when we see it, and it is in full view of the nation. Their real agenda is finding its way through the propagandized media. Our patriotism and unwavering resolve will keep our nation the land of the free and the home of the brave. We are all Paul Revere’s and we are sounding the alarm! We speak to the right because we are in the Right. Let Freedom Ring!

Furthermore, to Obama Blackside, “You, shut up, stop talkin’, and get out of our White House.”
Oh, did I say, ” That’s the real change we need!”

The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere

“Listen my children and you shall hear. Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere…

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,—
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
1807-1882

http://www.nationalcenter.org/PaulRevere’sRide.html

A good friend bought my lunch (isn’t that the definition of a good friend one who buys your lunch?) and over pasta he mentioned the book TRIBES by Seth Godin. It’s a small book with a big message. It addresses the changing social and business constructs and envisions a future already here and now, where power and influence are shifting from traditional hierarchies to groups united by common beliefs. The development of the Internet has facilitated this shift in a big way. Leadership is more defined by passion and faith than by wallet. For example in the last US presidential election Barak Obama raised almost 25% more in campaign contributions than Hillary Clinton, and John McCain combined and it flooded in from the Internet. Who would have thought that a relatively new face in Washington could pull together more financing than those two warhorses, an ex-president’s wife and a revered war hero? Why? Because of passion. Because of belief. The people wanted change and were willing to follow a leader who appeared able to create the change.

I’ve written a lot in my blogs about changes. The changes I’ve addressed mostly concern the printing industry, but change is happening on every front, in every field of endeavor. I’ve been sitting on the sidelines of the publishing business, observing, and occasionally commenting. Now, it appears, that I’ve been given the opportunity to lead a tribe of self-publishing authors. That was what the lunch was all about. Self-publishing, in my opinion, is on the verge of eclipsing traditional publishing. And with my background in writing, marketing, and printing I am the logical choice to contribute to this movement. I didn’t choose it, but by my preparation, it chose me. That’s another point that Seth makes is that Tribe leaders generally don’t go looking for leadership, instead they see a need and are compelled to fill it. It’s the leader’s faith and passion that attracts their followers.

Mr. Godin discusses the old factory model. Factory workers were hired by owners, who paid them to do a job. The jobs were generally routine and required bosses to make sure everyone stayed in line and did things exactly the way the boss wanted them done. Much like slaves on a galley ship. In this new world run by tribes, we join, or create tribes, because we are drawn to the ideal. We want to make a difference. We think that the purpose of the tribe is valuable, important, and worth giving of our time and effort. The tribe causes the change to happen. If this occurred on the factory floor it would be chaotic. The smooth production of products would be interrupted. Participating workers would be disciplined and might be in danger of forfeiting their jobs.

I have another friend who is fond of quoting Gandhi, “Be the change you want to see [in the world].” The most monumental changes always begin with one person, one person with a vision.

Again the concept isn’t really new. The founding fathers of the United States of America were drawn together because of a mutual belief in freedom and self-rule. The leaders stepped forward and the people followed. What’s new is the Internet. Tribes can be formed at lightening speed. Twitter, for example, provides a platform for a succinct idea of 140 words or less, to potentially reach millions of readers within seconds. Can you imagine what Paul Revere would have thought? Riding through the countryside, by horseback, required a commitment of hours and days. Too bad he didn’t have a laptop computer or even a cell phone.

What? You say that you don’t like this new world? You think that 140 character messages lack depth? Too bad for you. The Tribes rule and will only get stronger. Get on board or be left behind.

Most American schoolchildren hear the tale of Paul Revere’s famous “Midnight Ride”.  Sadly, most of the story it not completely accurate.

The ride began at 11 pm not midnight but that is really a minor detail.

First, Paul Revere was not the only brave soul to put his life on the line that night.  William Dawes and Revere were both sent out from Boston to Lexington to warn John Hancock and Samuel Adams of the advancement of the King’s troops and their impending arrests. They were sent two different paths to ensure at least one would be successful. Both arrived in Lexington (Dawes about 30 minutes after Revere but Dawes was sent the long way around.) Along the way as the message spread at least 40, possibly more, other riders also set off with the alert as Revere and Dawes reached them.  Some of these brave men were caught but none ever get the well deserved credit for their important part.

Second, the ride didn’t really end in Lexington. Revere and Dawes decided after reaching Hancock and Adams to attempt to ride on to Concord. They had accomplished their goal but still amazingly decided to take the great risk to go on. At this point, a young physician, Samuel Prescott joined them. Unfortunately, the three men were detained at Lincoln, on the way to Concord. Prescott and Dawes escaped but Revere was walked back to Lexington at gunpoint before finally escaping as well.

Third,  neither Paul Revere nor William Dawes would have been yelling, “the British are coming.” Two reasons why this is true. For one, they weren’t yelling at all. This was a very dangerous and secret mission. They could have easily been killed for what they were doing if caught. They did pass on the message but not by running through the streets screaming. The other is, at the time the colonists very much considered themselves Britons. They were still legally under British rule. While they were not happy with many of the King’s policies they had yet to conclude the need to form an independent union.  Instead, according to accounts, he actually, quietly told the others that, “The regulars are coming.” in reference to the British “regular” soldiers.

People often mistakenly assume that during the colonial period everyone was just itching to break free from Great Britain but this simply wasn’t alway the case.

• Paul Revere & William Dawes rode on April 18, 1775.
• It wasn’t until 1776 that all 13 states agreed to write The Declaration of Independence and become it’s own nation.

While there are a few inconsistencies in the true story of Paul Revere and William Dawes the important thing is what they and so many others did. They stood up against tyranny willing to lose everything they had including their lives. By doing so, they have provided future American’s unprecedented freedom. For that reason,  I believe it is important to know what really happened and is why I set the record straight.

By Jacqueline Smith

The beauty of the Northeast is breathtaking.  The lush green forests that hide the buildings, homes, and even the freeways are amazing.  Only when you are right in a city do you feel the city at all.  Part of our adventure for the march on Washington, DC, was to come to historic Boston, Massachusetts.

A good friend of mine, Andrew Mismash, and member of The S.T.A.R. Forum, served an LDS mission in Boston and suggested the Freedom Trail. Since we are in an RV, Parking was a bit of an adventure, and we ended up parking by the wharf. Our freedom trail began in the middle.  While we didn’t make it down the entire trail, we saw many wonderful and important sites in Boston.  There is so much history.  I wondered at the liberal views that seem to emanate from this state, when there is so much Constitutional history right at your fingertips.  There are many Universities in this state, and according to David Nobel’s Understanding the Times, the liberal professors apparently are having quite an influence. Nevertheless, I digress.

With five children in tow, the 7-hour walk (with a wonderful stop for seafood) was quite exhausting.  What a day.  My feet are aching, and my heart is full. I am so grateful to the men and women of courage who took a stand in Boston, for this is truly where it all started.  According to the Fourth Turning, by Strauss & Howe, a catalyst must set off the crisis at the end of the 3rd turning.  The Boston Massacre and the Boston Tea Party were the catalyst of that period.  Then the Declaration of Independence was signed and the Revolutionary War began.

9/11 marks the day in our time when it is believed we had our catalyst. About 7 – 10 years following a catalyst, an alignment takes place. The alignment in their day, was the signing of the Declaration of Independence.  Is the march on DC the alignment of our time?  Only time will tell.

We went to Paul Revere’s home. 

It is the oldest building in Boston at over 300 years, because it was already 90 years old when he bought it. My daughter, Silvére, mentioned that the bed in his upstairs room looked the room of Felicity from her American Girls Series.  This is where she first learned of the Boston Tea Party.

This brings us to the point of this trip. The Tea Party Movement and the 9.12 Projects When we mentioned back in April that we were having a Tea Party, she asked me if was like the Boston Tea Party.  I was grateful she had connected history to today so well.  While the original Tea Party movement in this country was about the upcoming taxes we know will be levied to pay for the outrageous spending and unreasonable programs being set forth by the current administration, and past bailouts and spending of the Bush administration, it has morphed into a rally for liberty. Constitutional principles are at the forefront.  We want to tell our government “Don’t Tread On Me.”

This flag here, is still hanging in the Old North Church in Boston. Out in front of the church in the courtyard, is the statue of Paul Revere making his famous ride.

We saw the grave marker of John Hancock, signer of the Declaration.

We saw Samuel Adams gravestone, and the markers of those who died in the Boston Massacre.

The gravestones of the early colonists and Americans are interesting, and macabre.

And of course we saw the oldest pub in the state, dedicated to “patriot brewer” Samuel Adams.

Bunker Hill Memorial can be seen from across the harbor. 

What a beautiful place is Boston, and so full of the memories of our patriot founders and those who courageously helped them.

The founders wanted to put an end to aristocracy.  They wanted no more Lords and Ladies, Kings and Queens, simply, no more titles.  The future day of 300,000 million people without title is here…or is it? The titles have changed, but an aristocracy has arisen in these United States.  Now we call them Senator, Congressman, Representative, Czar (oh, I mean Special Advisor to the President), CEO, CFO, Professor, and PhD (and I do not mean the medical kind.) The business suits, and tweed jackets are gods no more in the minds of the people.  We are ready to end this new aristocracy. I am not against capitalism by any stretch, but I am against corruption whether it is in business or government. No special rules for the wealthy, no special rules for the government. The laws that are created must be laws they are bound to.  Laws on taxes, laws on health care, laws on retirement must apply to our government officials as well as those they serve.  Did you hear that?  They serve us, the people.  We the people of these United States will hold our politicians to a higher standard, and they will not be re-elected unless they are truly statesman, and understand the meaning of public virtue.  We will end the taxes that take from the wealthy, and give to the poor. Our government does not get to play Robin Hood.  Our growth as individuals depends our opportunity to choose to give to the poor rather than be robbed by taxation, otherwise we are merely slaves under an oppressive self-righteous government. 

This is the greatest country in the world.  We have a wonderful system of government. But, it must be filled by men and women of virtue, with an educated, and informed public standing behind them.  

 FREEDOM CAN WIN!